The Symbiotic Relationship Between Myself and Sterling Silver

Like a raven, I am smarter than I look, and I love shiny things. Whether it be gemstones, silver, diamonds, or sequins; if it reflects light, it must be mine. Being adorned with the things that bring me joy has been one of the best feelings to discover and experience in my life. The curation of one’s presence is what elicits the way they are perceived in the world; it is a part of us that we should celebrate, not neglect. As the items you wear showcase who you are, I want to tell you who I am through the chunks of stone and silver I place on my hands every day and how they came to be.

The first two rings on my left hand come from the same little shop on the lower level of Pike’s Place Market in Seattle. During October of 2021 I drove nearly 700 miles through the surprisingly beige regions of Oregon and Washington to visit my younger sister, Allie, in her hometown of Sequim. It’s a quiet, elderly town just across the peninsula from Seattle. Allie’s mother doesn’t let her out much so I, the very cool older sister, had to take her to Seattle to go explore and experience more than just the Costco and JCPenney’s residing in her town. The morning after I arrived, my sister and I set out to have our planned shopping excursion. Following the ferry ride, Allie finished her muffin, berated me for my road rage, and I found a parking spot in an outrageously expensive parking garage across the street from Pike’s place. As we set off to go see what treasures we could find, Allie and I linked arms and began our descent into the sea of Seattleites and tourists, not really knowing where we fit. We always start at the bottom of the concrete complex and work our way back up. After looking at the comic book store and various rock and spirituality shops, we finally go into a heavily cluttered trinket store. Every inch of the shelved walls were overflowing with key chains, Seattle souvenirs, and figurines. The owner sat quietly behind the sectional-shaped jewelry cases, surveying the store quietly while organizing his inventory. Peering into these cases was like a game of I spy – each jewelry display was crammed to the brim with rings and pendants. I was lost in the collection of gem-ornamented bands. Allie broke my entrancement, nagging me to hurry up and choose, prodding my side as I bent over the counter. I finally settled on two rings. The first was a simple band with a knot detail on my pinky because I did not have any rings that fit my littlest finger, naked compared to the rest of my hand. The second was a ring shaped as a scorpion. It had turquoise, my birthstone, inlaid in the thorax while the tail wrapped around my finger, simulating the ring band. I got the scorpion ring not because my finger was bare, but because taking risks is important. I felt like I could take on anything wearing that little metal monster around my ring finger.

The ring that resides on my left middle finger is another Pike’s Place ring, but this is a fairly new purchase. My two-week-old addition is a double banded ring with turquoise the shade of green that you see on iridescent feathers. I found myself back in Seattle for a concert with two of my best friends, Emmy, and Adrien. It was a short trip, so we only had the morning and afternoon before the concert to explore; and there I found myself back at Pike’s Place. This time I found the ring that spoke to me on the main level of vendors. This booth was only about three feet wide, well organized, and set in between two flower vendors. I had already taken off the ring that was previously on my middle finger because it was ill fitting and left my skin green. The shop keeper noticed the finger I was trying rings on, grabbed it, and started picking rings that add to my ongoing curation. Though Emmy and Adrien weren’t especially fond of how upfront he was, I appreciated the sentiment of him wanting to help me find the right ring. The shop keeper could tell I was eyeing my future ring but when he tried to slip it on my finger it was just a hair too small. Lo and behold, this man had a hammer and ring sizer and went to town smacking that band to fit my finger perfectly. Though it wasn’t a perfect fit to begin with, that didn’t mean that it wasn’t the right fit at all. Most roadblocks can be overcome, and I continue to think about that when I look at my left middle finger.

The last ring on my left hand is by far the biggest in my collection, yet the cheapest of the bunch. This outlandish piece of stone came to me through a jewelry cabinet that I have walked past over a thousand times. My best friend Cora and I decided to have our regularly scheduled shopping time at the Antique World Mall on a particularly dreary afternoon, setting out a few hours to walk the aisles of items as old as our grandparents. I usually skim past the jewelry cases as I find a lot of the rings are costume jewelry quality; as you know, I am not a fan of green fingers. We were making our way back to the front to get in line and this particular case catches both of our gazes. There was a display of about ten rings or so on a velvet ring holder and there she was, in all her glory, on the end of the top row. This particular ring has a rectangular chunk of Mojave turquoise about half an inch wide and an inch long, fully covering my finger up until my knuckle. Cora asked to open the case for one of the other rings in the display, so I decided to try the ring on as a treat and to make it more worthwhile for the attendant helping us. I loved it, but I was quite unsure if it was practical, and since it was huge, I was scared I would have to shell out more than what I was worth for it. As I stood there staring at the collage of purples and blues sitting on my knuckle, I asked how much the seller was asking for it. The attendant responded that the ring was only $35, an amazing deal for an antique, sterling silver piece like this. The price was nice, but I continued to contemplate. Cora will never lead me down the wrong path, but we have our have fun, so I asked her for her opinion on the potential purchase of the ring. Cora told it to me straight “if it brings you joy and you can still pay your bills afterwards then you should be able to buy something bold and fun, it is powerful.” This antique mall excursion brought me this ring that reminds me I can too, be bold and fun. Finally embracing the pieces of yourself that you were too afraid to show is far more rewarding than concealing yourself for the comfort of others. She was right, it was powerful, and I feel that way every time I wear it.

Now that my turquoise hand is taken care of it’s time to talk about my right hand, or my family hand. My index finger fits a ring that I wear as an ode to myself. Each year around my birthday I tend to get stuck in a funk. The days are darker, the weather gets colder, and I am contemplating every decision I have made within the last year of my life as another one starts to pass. As a pick me up I decided to drive my somber little 21-year-old self to Eyes of the World. This little shop is an imports store housing everything spiritual as well as gifts, trinkets, decorations, and a wide selection of gemstone jewelry. I opened the door, hugged by the scent of incense and greeted with a warm hello by the cashier. After perusing the gems, tapestries, and clothing I set out to find the perfect gift for myself among the jewelry cases. I didn’t want another turquoise ring as I have entire hand dedicated to the stone - I wanted something that would be cohesive, but different. My first look around was majorly inconclusive, I thought it was incredible I did not see anything I fancied. Just to cover all my bases, I did a second lap, and something finally caught my eye. An opal, mostly comprised of reflective blue hues, had a section that would shine bright pink when it hit the light just right. The iridescent stone was laid into a band as wide as the opal was tall – strong yet beautiful. It reminded me of my resilience and how I feel when the light hits me just right. I realized that I have control of how I feel and where I put my energy. I need to be strong in order to grow and shine as I should, just like that opal in my ring.

My right middle finger actually has two rings stacked on top of each other, one gifted from my mother and the other by my father. I have only known my father to wear one type of ring, it is what he calls his “practical fidget.”  Spinner rings have two separate bands in which an inlaid ring will spin while the main band stays in place. He would spin his ring every time he could not sit down and bounce his leg or had to stand in one spot for a while. I, unfortunately, inherited his restlessness and as an act of acknowledgement he gifted me my own spinning ring on my 16th birthday. Mine was a little fancier than my father’s, my middle band contained a Celtic knotted pattern which differed greatly from his plain, brushed silver band. Six years later I still spin that ring when I can’t bounce my leg or if I need to ground myself. My mother’s gift sits on top of my fathers. Her love language is giving gifts and she decided to go all out for my graduation. Her thought process was now that I was an adult, I could have an “adult” ring. I met my mother and my grandmother at Saver’s for their monthly thrifting excursion in Boise, thinking nothing of it. I met them in the shoe aisle and my mom told me she had something for me. After a few moments of rummaging through her bag she pulled out a small, black velvet box. I opened the little box to reveal a small diamond ring and band set. I wear the band every day and save the ring for special occasions because my spatial awareness and dainty diamonds do not mix. Though my parents are not together, the rings help me remember the separate relationships I have with them and value I should give to both.

The last ring that adorns my lanky fingers is by far one of my favorites. It’s a circular moonstone ring given to me by my aunt, my mother’s sister. She gave it to me when I was 15 in a set with a matching pendant shaped like a woman with her stomach made of another moon stone. This was one of the first rings I ever received that was made of silver, one I could actually wear for an extended period of time without giving myself a green finger band for a week. I never thought I would be a girl that wears her rings with pride, but my aunt gifted that to me when she gave me this ring. I could be any girl I wanted, I could be the girl that I held within myself, and that’s when I realized I was the only one holding myself back from who I wanted to be.

The rings on my fingers hold a lot more weight than the grams of silver and gems they are made from. With every purchase comes a lesson that has bored itself into my soul, pushing me further into the life I want to live. Like a raven, I remember the faces, places, and situations from which I learn from. When I look down at my hands I am reminded of my worth, what and who I value, and the lessons I’ve learned along the way. I love myself, my family, and the life I have created through the power and confidence of my adornment. I might’ve absorbed the saying “your life if in your hands” quite literally, but I would never change the path that these rings have taken me on.